The cock-pit at Fulton, the little suburb over the hill, on the line of the Elm Grove road, was the scene last night of one of the largest and most spirited mains that have been seen about here in a long time. The contest was between Pittsburgh and Wheeling birds for $100 a side, and thirteen pittings were on the programme. The main was not concluded until an early hour this morning, but it is believed that Wheeling won. The latest reports from the pit were to the effect that Wheeling was far enough ahead to assure a final victory.
The main had been looked forward to with much interest by the sporting fraternity and by many who do not class themselves in the ranks of the regular sports, but who enjoy a little something of this kind occasionally, ever since the arrangements for the main were made -- about three weeks ago. The choicest birds that could be found were selected and carefully trained and conditioned for the fight, for it was understood that Pittsburgh would send down birds with reputations. The word was quietly passed around that the main would be fought sure, last night, and the result was an attendance of about two hundred. A large portion of this crowd went out from the city; the others were from Fulton and the country surrounding. Special trains were run on the Elm Grove road to take the spectators out and bring them back. A few drove their own rigs.
An admission fee of fifty cents was demanded from each one before entrance could be had to the frame building that has lately been the scene of so many encounters between feathered combatants. The crowd that perched itself on the seats, ranged amphitheatre-like about the pit, was one made up of men, young and old, from nearly every walk in life. There were sports, business men, clerks and men-about-town. A more orderly assemblage it would have been hard to find; there was no loud talking, no quarreling and no drinking. These things were not allowed as too much of a racket is a bad thing for the birds. Smoking was permitted at intervals, and those who desired refreshments could purchase ham and cheese sandwiches and birch beer. Several Pittsburghers were present among them, the well known Pat Curley, owner of the celebrated fighting dog "Jack Napoleon." Nearly every one had a roll varying in size and value from one that was all good stuff and bulged out the owners inside vest pocket like a rolling pit to a "fake," in the shape of a few ones rolled around a deceiving core of worthless paper; and everyone wanted to bet to a greater or less extent. Those who were posted on the science of cock-fighting and who could size up a bird's fine points and winning qualities at a glance, bet freely. All this was done quietly. A man would in an ordinary tone announce his bet, and if any one wanted it a nod or a wink was all that was necessary. Several hundred dollars changed hands before the night was over.
The birds pitted were as fine a lot as ever fought, bled and died in a cock-pit. There were all varieties and colors and it was no easy matter to pick the winners.
Wheeling lost the first fight and money went up on the Pittsburgh birds with great odds offering, but there was a fall when Wheeling in this round laid Pittsburgh in the dust. The third fight was won by Pittsburgh and then her luck stopped for the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh were awarded to Wheeling . Several times the sport was quite exciting. At no time was it tame and the old-timers enthusiastically declared that it was one of the greatest nights in the history of cock-fighting hereabouts.

The Wheeling Daily Intelligencer, Friday Morning, Feb. 11, 1887, p. 4